Work of Art (35 page)

Read Work of Art Online

Authors: Monica Alexander

BOOK: Work of Art
3.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

Harper

 

“Have you talked to my boy?” Brandon asked me when he was hanging out in my living room two weeks after the wedding.

I’d invited him over along with Kelly, Devin and Julian. Kelly had wanted to cook, so I was her official wine-drinking assistant, which basically meant that I drank wine, munched on appetizers, refilled everyone’s wine glasses, and sometimes she’d ask me stir or chop something.

I shook my head. “He’s called a bunch of times, but I’m giving him space.”

“He loves you, you know,” Brandon reminded me.

I nodded. “I know.”

It was something I was painfully aware of and had to fight like hell not to give in to, because the last thing I needed was to jump headlong into something that I knew I wanted to be serious with a guy who just got out of two back-to-back relationships that hadn’t ended well.

“You do?” Kelly exclaimed with her head practically in the oven as she temped the roast she was cooking.

“Yeah, he told me.”

“Then, C
upcake, what are you waiting for?” Julian chimed in from where he sat perched on a chair in the living room across from his brother and Brandon who were watching a baseball game.

“For him to be stable, to be independent and to know that he’s not just emotionally
charged by everything that happened between us.”

“Yeah, he’s still kind of reeling from the whole Tyler thing,
” Brandon told me, “but he’s stable. He’s going back to work on Monday, and he’s making all sorts of positive changes in his life.”

“Like what?” I asked, as I went to sit on the arm of Julian’s chair. He put his arm around me, so I
leaned into him.

Brandon looked over at me. “I’ll let him tell you that when you talk to him.”

“But I’m not calling him back,” I reminded him.

Brandon shrugged. “Well then, I guess you’ll never know.”

“Brandon!” I chastised him. “It’s only been two weeks. He needs space, time.”

“Hey, I’m just saying, he’s in a good place. He’s getting his shit together, so he can be happy and be with you.”

“He’s doing all that for her?” Devin asked.

Brandon nodded. “Yeah, he is. He
wants to make up for lost time and make things right as much as he can.”

“Shit, Harper,” Devin said then. “Give the boy a chance.”

“Yeah, give him a chance,” Kelly cheered from the kitchen. “I’m tearing up over here. That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“And you’re sure he’s not just rebounding?” I asked Brandon.

“No, he’s not. I even tried to get him to go out and get laid with me a few times to help clear his head, but he said he didn’t need it.”

I took a sip of my wine. Julian looked up at
me, lowering his voice so only I could hear him. “Baby girl, how long have I known you?”


Six years.”

“And in those six
years, have you ever been in love?”

I shook my head.

“Exactly. And I know you didn’t date when you had Tyler, so you haven’t loved anyone since this boy took his exit out of your life. I know you’ve been carrying a torch for him, even if you never realized it. And now you found out that he never left you, that he never stopped loving you. What are you waiting for?”

I sighed. “I’m afraid
, Jules. I’m afraid of getting hurt.”

He took my hand in his. “I know you are. We’re all afraid of getting hurt, but you can’t hide out while life passes you by. You’re never going to get a guarantee that
everything will be okay, and because of what life has dealt you, I get why you’re so guarded, but you can’t forget to live your life.”

I leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

“I love you, Harper, and I want to see you happy. Ever since the first day we met, when I saw that awful cupcake tramp stamp, I knew you were special, but I also knew you carried around the weight of the world, and you were trying like hell to not let anyone see it. Bad things happen to good people, and you’re evidence of that, but I think this boy is something good. I saw the way he looked at you when he was here that morning. He cares for you very much.”

I nodded, as I let his words sink in. “Should I call him?”

Julian shook his head. “You need to do what you want to do in the time that you’re ready to do it, but I’m just telling you, I don’t think you’re going to regret being with this boy.”

“Okay.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Kelly called from the kitchen.

Julian nodded at me once before he got up and left the living room, leaving me sitting on the arm of the chair pondering what I should do.

* * *

Later that night, once everyone had left, I picked up the phone and called Ryan.

“You’re really calling me?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Yes, I’m calling you.”

I smiled. Just hearing his voice made me happy.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely.

“For what?”

“For not pushing me away, for giving me a chance, for, I don’t know, for
letting me hear your voice because I’ve really been missing you.”

I miss you
too,
I wanted to say as I felt my cheeks get hot. He was doing it again – leveling me with the simplest of words.

“Well, I’m not sure it was that calculated of a phone call. I really just wanted to see how yo
u’re doing.”

He chuckled. “I’m doing all right.”

“Have you spoken to your family?”

“No. I’ve talked to my brother, but not my parents or my sister. Lisa called me
a few days ago, but I didn’t call her back, and my parents haven’t reached out. I’d venture to guess that they’re pretty mad at me for the whole wedding debacle.”

I would imagine in their eyes, it was the bigger of the issues that were going on. Their son was upset about something monumental, but it didn’t affect them in the grand scheme of things. They were image people, just like my mom had been, and when that image was in danger of being tarnished, you did what you had to, like prostituting yourself out on the sly or forgoing mortgage payments because you wanted to eat out or have designer clothes. It was a warped sense of belonging, and I’d never understood it, and I didn’t think Ryan really did either.

I sighed. “Ryan, is it possible that your sister genuinely feels bad about what happened? It was a long time ago.”

“No,” he said instantly. “She had ample opportunities to tell me what happened, but she didn’t take t
hem. She put her own fears of me being mad at her in front of the possibility that I was missing out on my child’s life. She was being selfish, and I can’t forgive that.”

That made sense.

“So how have you been? What’s new with you?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Well, I have a gallery show on Friday
, and I’m thinking of starting a new photography series. There’s this gallery that I have a quarterly spot at, and I’ve been trying to think of an original idea for my show in November with not a lot of luck. But something came to me tonight, and I think I finally know what I want to put together for it.”

“What’s the theme?”

I blushed, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “I can’t say just yet, but maybe you’ll come to the opening?”

“I’ll be there,” he said without hesitation, and I hadn’t even told him the date yet. “How’s the tattoo business?”

“Busy. I’ve been working every night. Things are great.”

“Get any new tats lately?”

“No,” I said, smirking at his question. “I don’t get new ones on a whim. There has to be a reason.”

“That makes sense, I guess.”

“So, what about you?” I asked. “Anything new in your life?”

“Yeah, actually, lots of things,
” he said, and I could hear the swell of pride in his voice.

“Like what?”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “How about I come to your show this Friday and take you out for a drink afterward. I can tell you everything then.”

I sighed. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. That sounds like a date.”

He chuckled. “It doesn’t have to be, although you know where I stand, so it’s really up to you.”

“Maybe,” I told him.

“I’ll take it,” he said quickly.

I laughed. “No, it’s a maybe that we can get a drink. It’s definitely not going to be a date.”

“I can live with that,” he said jovially.

“Well then, I’ll see you on Friday. I’ll text you the address of the gallery.”

“I already know it,” he said. “I was planning to go anyway.”

I blushed again, afraid of what he made me feel when he said things like that.

* * *

I got up early the next morning
, grabbed my camera, and set out across the city in search of finding love, or more specifically people in love. I wanted to observe them and capture them on film and study them to see who they were and how the person they were with shaped them.

I’d never been in love as an adult, and even though I’d been around Kelly and Devin, who were as in love as any two people, I’d never noticed them as a unit. I always saw them separately, but then last night as we sat down to eat, I started to pay attention to how he looked at her when she talked, or how when he finished his
wine she reached across and refilled his glass, or the little exchanges they shared when they thought no one was looking. It was almost as if they were melded together just enough that they made each other whole. And for the first time in years, I was envious of the bond they shared.

Sure, I had Julian, and he loved me, but it wasn’t the same as someone who you connected with on such a base level. And Brandon was proving to be an awesome friend, but it was the little things that came from sleeping next to someone night after night and waking up next to them and seeing their morning routine and what they did to relax or things they laughed at. It
was knowing someone better than you knew yourself, because they truly let you in and let you see them, flaws and all.

Ryan had
flaws, that was for sure. He had a screwed up family, he’d made hasty decisions in his personal life, and he’d chosen a career he hated. He had a lot of flaws. But he was also a really good person, and I wasn’t sure I could fault him for being so lost. With everything that he’d been through and how his family had debased his choices again and again, he could be a really angry or jaded or hollow person, but he wasn’t. He was thoughtful and loving and was still searching desperately to find the right way to live his life, to find that spark that would bring him joy. And I couldn’t fault him for that.

He’d seemed different when we’d talked the night before. And talking to him had given me hope.

I wasn’t sure what my series on love would end up like. I’d never been a planner when it came to my art. I started with a blank canvas and painted, or I set out with an idea of capturing something on film only to see where the project took me. Most of the time, I went places I never thought, and I assumed this time would be no exception.

At first I settled on a bench in the park, wanting to observe th
ose out for morning walks. I sat for an hour and only got one shot of a man tying his girlfriend’s shoe for her while she smiled at him. Then I walked over to the waterfront, hoping to capture some of the tourists down around Fisherman’s Wharf. I got some shots in before I walked down to the Presidio for a while.

I ended up in North Beach, and since I was there, I figured I’d stop in and see my dad. He was at his garage, buried underneath a vintage car he was working on.
His hobby was restoring and repairing vintage cars to mint condition, but this wasn’t one of his. It was work he was doing for someone else.

“Hey Dad,” I said
, knocking on the hood.

He slid out from under the car, grease staining his hands and sweat beads dotting his forehead.

“Harper. I didn’t expect to see you today. We’re we supposed to have lunch?”

I shook my head and sat down on an old oil drum sitting in the corner. “No, I was in the neighborhood, so I figured I’d stop by.” I patted my camera bag.

“What are you working on?” he asked as he sat up.

“A series I’m entitling ‘Love’. It’s for my show in
November. Are you coming to the show this Friday?”

“Definitely.”

I smiled. “So, I kind of have to tell you something.”

“Okay, shoot.”

I took a deep breath. “Ryan is back in the picture.”

“Who?”

“Ryan Carson. Tyler’s father.”

I saw the anger bubble up on my dad’s face and put my hand up to stop
him from going off on me before he heard the whole story.

Other books

Miss Winters Proposes by Frances Fowlkes
In Darkling Wood by Emma Carroll
Doublecrossed by Susan X Meagher
The Dungeoneers by John David Anderson
The Merry Wives of Windsor by William Shakespeare
The Marx Sisters by Barry Maitland
144: Wrath by Caldwell, Dallas E.
Driven by Rylon, Jayne
The Post Office Girl by Stefan Zweig